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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26578864">Guardian Angel</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_fannibal/pseuds/broken_fannibal'>broken_fannibal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens Extended Universe, Takin' Over the Asylum</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(A Sprained Ankle), Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crossover, Gen, Homelessness, Injury, Kindness, POV Alternating</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:55:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26578864</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_fannibal/pseuds/broken_fannibal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale finds the soaked and shivering Campbell on the steps of his bookshop at night and takes him under his wing.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Campbell Bain</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Guardian Angel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>pun intended (in the summary)</p><p>I have <i>no clue</i> why Campbell would be out on his own/homeless. Did his parents kick him out? Did he run away? Did the asylum kick him out? feel free to make something up xD</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Campbell’s head snapped up when he heard the door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A middle-aged man stood in the door, he wore an old-fashioned suit and looked at him with a puzzled, stern expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry- Sorry, I’m not- I’ll leave!” He jumped to his feet and winced as a sharp pain shot through his ankle. He really shouldn't have gotten up that quickly...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But who knew what the man’s intentions were. Very few people would want a homeless boy sitting on their doorstep. He shivered as a cold gust of wind blew against his back. His clothes were hopelessly soaked, they felt heavy and icy against his already cold skin. He rubbed his hands together and shifted his weight off his hurt foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man had been quiet so far. When Campbell looked at him again, he was taken aback by the directness of his gaze. The longer it went on, the more he started thinking it should feel uncomfortable. But for some reason, it didn't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were you sitting out here?” the man asked in a gentle tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just waiting out the rain,” he lied. He still wasn't sure if he would be chased away or simply be told to leave, to bother someone else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you planning on going, if I may ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stared at his shoes. Why was he asking that? Why would it matter to him? “A friend’s place, it's not too far.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don't have a place to stay, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tensed a little. Why was this man so hell-bent on getting the truth out of him? No one usually cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Common sense warned him that it wasn’t a good idea to tell a stranger at night in an empty street that he didn't know where to go, that no one would miss him. But for some reason he couldn't pin down no matter how hard he tried, he felt safe. So in the end, he nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come inside. It's warmer there.” He stepped back and held the door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up, warm light shone out from inside the building, the man smiled gently. He shivered at the promise of warmth, even if it was only for a little while. He mumbled a thank you and stepped inside. Immediately warmth enveloped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take off your shoes please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly toed them off and rubbed his hands together. They began to prickle as they warmed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now he took in the interior for the first time. Bookshelves lined the walls, nearly every flat surface was covered with piles of books. He had landed in a bookshop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another violent shiver ran through him as his body adjusted to the warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, how terribly rude! I forgot to introduce myself. Aziraphale Fell.” The man held out his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Campbell.” He put on a smile and shook his hand. As soon as he did, a wave of warmth overcame him. Not like the one he had felt when he had stepped through the door, not warmth reaching him from outside. This felt like it spread from inside of him. His tense muscles relaxed, he didn't shiver anymore. Strange.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Follow me, Campbell. I’ll make us some cocoa, that should warm you up.” The man smiled brightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” He smiled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around as he followed the man through the bookshop. The shelves, tables, chairs, and the books too, all looked old, antique even. Much like the man himself. Not by his age but the clothes he wore, the way he talked. He blended right in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They entered a cosy backroom. More bookshelves lined the walls. The only furniture was an antique armchair and a couch as well as a small, round table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Campbell had stood in the door and taken in the room, the bookshop owner, Mr Fell as he had introduced himself, had gone to a small sink at the wall to his left.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Aziraphale took two mugs from the board above the sink.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the boy still standing by the door. One of his feet barely touched the ground, he looked a little paler than before. So being cold hadn't been the only issue after all, had it?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He set the mugs down and went over to him. “Are you alright, dear?” He touched the boy’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tensed and reared back. The sudden motion caused him to lose his balance and stumble into the doorframe. He winced when he set down the foot he had previously kept off the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You're hurt. Let me see, come on, sit down.” He guided the boy to the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he shook his head. “I can’t sit down, I shouldn't, my clothes are wet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Well, that was indeed a problem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He quickly miracled them dry, or at least dry enough, before touching the boy’s sleeve. “No, look, they’re quite dry already.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confused, he stared down at his sleeve and touched it. “Huh... You’re right,” he said with a small frown. They sat down, the boy on the couch and he in the armchair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Show me your ankle,” he said gently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of hesitation, he brought it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gently pulled the boy’s leg up to rest on his thighs. Carefully, he pushed the pant leg up and pulled down the sock. The ankle was purple and a little swollen. “Oh, that looks painful,” he remarked. “Let me get you an ice pack. I’ll heat up the milk while I’m there. Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to thank me, dear.” He smiled and went to get the mugs before leaving the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Earlier, he deliberately hadn't specified where ‘there’ was since he didn't have a proper kitchen. The room he had made into the backroom had originally been meant to be the kitchen but where else should he have put the rest of his books, the more private ones? And he hadn't had a need for a kitchen back then anyway. The only other space was a small room with a tiny window, overall not very pleasant and nowhere near big enough for the books. So this was his kitchen now. Here he kept milk that (miraculously) never spoiled, chocolate, marshmallows and a small gas cooker. He had had to invest in these things after getting a memo from Upstairs, telling him not to perform so many ‘superficial’ miracles that had to do with acquiring ‘gross matter’. Clearly Gabriel’s words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From that point on, he had used to the gas cooker to prepare his cocoa, like he was now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the milk was ready, he mixed in the chocolate, poured it into the mugs and topped it with marshmallows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now all he needed were an ice pack and a towel.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Campbell opened his eyes when he heard steps approach. He sat up a little straighter from where he had sunk back into the couch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr Fell smiled warmly when he set the two mugs down on the small table. “Here you go, dear.” He held out the ice pack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” The pain flared up and he winced when he placed it on his ankle. But then the cold began to seep in and soon the pain eased.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was so much more pleasant than he had thought his evening would turn out. He hummed and closed his eyes when he wrapped his hands around the mug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn't even remember the last time he’d had cocoa, not to mention the last time someone had made it for him. And there were even marshmallows in this one!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blew on it before taking a tentative sip. And then another. It tasted heavenly!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only when his mug was half empty did he notice the handle. There were two white wings, Mr Fell’s mug looked the same. Strange. A strange mug belonging to a strange man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he drank, he looked at him over the rim. Mr Fell held a book in one hand, his mug in the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was something about him, something that made him seem odd. Not odd enough to stand out too much in daily life probably. But now that he looked closer, he couldn't help but notice. Yet, it didn't feel bad. Maybe that was because he, from a normal neurotypical perspective, was also odd. He couldn't pinpoint it but he knew there was something about this man and his presence, his calm, friendly behaviour, put him at ease. He had never met anyone who managed to make him feel so welcome, especially at first meeting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They finished their cocoa in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy had set his cup down on the side table and leaned into the couch once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was when he started yawning that he decided to offer that he could stay the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy looked at him with wide eyes. “Are you sure? It’s not too much trouble if I stay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled. “Not at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hopeful tone in his voice made him wonder how long the boy had been on his own. And what had led to him being on his own in the first place. "There is a guest room upstairs, you can sleep there.” In reality, it was the fully furnished bedroom he rarely ever used.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really? Thank you so much!” The boy beamed at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled back and led him to the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy sat down on the bed and bounced a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll get you some clothes for the night.” With that, he left the room. Out in the hallway, he waited a while before miracling pyjamas and going back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened the door, however, the boy had already curled up under the blanket. He seemed to be fast asleep. Only his hair and pale, freckled face peeked out from under the blanket.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled and set the pyjama down on the nightstand. He picked up the haphazardly discarded clothes from the floor, folded them and hung them over the foot of the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He went back and regarded the boy, he looked so peaceful like this. He caressed the boy’s hair and wished him a good night and pleasant dreams.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And Campbell did indeed have nice dreams that night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up feeling as refreshed as he hadn't in a long time.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!!! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div></div>
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